


"Good Boy"

by writinginthesecrettrees



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Sad Ending, and sam comforting it in its last moments, from the POV of the dog, literally just a dying dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 12:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21299690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writinginthesecrettrees/pseuds/writinginthesecrettrees
Summary: One hand reaches out, rubs around his ear and his tail thumps on the ground.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	"Good Boy"

**Author's Note:**

> As the tags say - this is literally just sadness for the sake of sadness. If I should add any warnings, let me know - I've tried to make it clear.

He tries to follow Her, but his legs don’t work and he hurts all over, deep gashes in his side where She hurt him. He doesn’t understand, tried to be good, but She changed.

A whine builds in his throat and he tries to crawl, drags himself along the sidewalk, ignores all the people who are backing away, sounds of sorrow and unease in their voices. She’s gone, ran off after hurting him and he just wants to find Her. Knows he can be better - more patient, more obedient - so She won’t hurt him again. Unless She changes again.

His legs refuse to drag him further, and the dog collapses, panting from the exertion. Blood seeps out of long gashes clawed into his side, slower now but constant. He wants to follow Her scent, but it changed and keeps changing into something that makes his hackles rise. She’s not what She used to be, not the woman who called him Good Boy and brushed him and played fetch.

Hands, big and smelling of metal and smoke, reach toward him, and he whimpers as he licks at the fingers. One hand reaches out, rubs around his ear and his tail thumps on the ground.

“Good boy.”

Fingers comb through his fur, find the extent of his wounds, and he hears a sniffling sound like She sometimes made when She watched the squawk box. He lifts his head, ignores the pain in his side to lick at a man’s face, hovering over him and streaming salty tears. His tail thumps faster when the man brings both hands up to rub at his ears, stroke over his fur.

“Such a good boy. It’s okay.”

And it is. She isn’t here, and he doesn’t know where She went or what he did to make Her hurt him, but the man is here and his voice sounds safe and kind. The dog lays his head back down, finds that it’s in the man’s lap and not on the cold pavement. His tail is still wagging, but slower, and the lights are getting dimmer.

The last thing he hears is “She’ll be with you soon.”

-

Sam’s chest aches as the dog gives one last wag of his tail, breathes out and doesn’t breathe in again. The blood has stopped pumping out of his side. He gives the dog one last pat, feels the living warmth already leaving, and eases out from under his head. As much as he wants to stay, make sure the dog gets a proper burial, he can’t.

He’s got a werewolf to hunt.


End file.
